Day 85. Saturday 31 May.

After a good night’s sleep, T took an early morning walk through the village. Only cats were about and then through the mist the balloons rose. It was a perfect pink morning after a night with firmly embedded earplugs and the rooster was in fine form.

Today was a little driving circuit,  stopping at those places in bold: Olopte to Bellver de Cerdanya (8 kms) to Isovol (5 kms) to Bolvir (8.5 kms) to Puigchedra (5 kms) to  Llivia (7 kms) to Egat (20 kms) to  Font-Romeu-Odeillo-Vi a (3.5 kms) to Mont-Louis (10 kms) to Saillagouse (13 kms) to  Bourg Madame (9 kms) to Olopte (15 kms).

First destination was Bellver de Cerdanya, just down the road, to chase up two recommendations from our host Maria Angel: stone-baked bread from Forn Pous and traditional sausage from Cansaladeria I Xarcuteria Pernils LLonganisses (we think known as Cal Jaume). At the bakery, the answer to “English?” was “No”, so Google translate asked “stone baked bread?” Enthusiastic nod and smiles and pointed out.

At Cal Jaume we waited in line as the two ladies attended to other customers: they would cut/pick up the selections, wrap them and when the order was complete walk over to another counter to complete the transaction, all the while talking, sometimes including us, although all we could do was smile and nod. Our turn, same response to the question, request typed in: “traditional sausage please’ then again nods and smiles as she disappeared into a back room to reappear with a couple of metres of thin sausage. We agreed to the amount she suggested for 2. Smiles and nods all round, but as we left D heard one say “English” so he turned back to correct that mistake: “Ah, Australien!’ – more huge smiles, laughs and enthusiastic waves. It was, unbelievably, still too early for coffee!

We continued on our drive, crossing into France via an international road, then  pausing at Llívia. The town of Llívia is a Spanish enclave surrounded by the French department of Pyrenees-Orientales. Because of a technicality in the Treaty of the Pyrenees signed in 1659, that transferred only “villages” in the Pyrenees to France, Llívia, which was designated a “town”, remains under Spanish control. Llívia is separated from the rest of Spain by a corridor approximately 1.6 km (1.0 mile) wide, which includes two French communes, and is traversed by a road owned by both France and Spain. Since 1995, there are no formal borders. Speech was in both French and Spanish. At a fruit stall we bought ‘gold-plated’ veggies and some fresh basil (first time we’ve seen a variety of fresh herbs, but they were suffering in the heat).

By now it was hot and humid, and threatening clouds were gathering.

We drove into Font-Romeu-Odeillo-Via along a steep and very winding road, much loved by the many cyclists zooming downhill. There wasn’t much to stop for, although the views en route were breathtaking – the scale being beyond our little iPhone cameras. At this point Doris played another trick and sent us down the wrong road, for which she was loudly and harshly admonished. Back on track again, we saw a most unusual structure, which turned out to be the Odeillo solar furnace, the world’s largest, serving as a science research site studying materials at very high temperatures.

On to Mont-Louis, a walled commune on a hill, also home to the Commando Training centre. We were well and truly in France.

Entry was through two narrow stone gateways, across a moat bridge. We chose a cafe/snack bar for lunch bypassing the restaurants that do a brisk trade with 3-course menus of the day. After nearly three months in this lifestyle, we haven’t taken on the dinner & wine scene in the middle of the day, preferring to return to home base ( by car) for this. The waitress had excellent English and when we ordered the quiche to share she advised that it was not home-made, recommending the bruschetta (for two): we selected the cheese and chorizo option. When it arrived it was huge, and about 80% garlic. This was, however, a single serve!

Spotty rain turned into showers as we drove away, becoming heavy enough to have a brief pull-over to wait it out. D stopped the car for T to take a photo of the boom gates he said were the border: actually, they were only a railway crossing!There are no marked borders.

Rain continued on and off…D took to the screen and T picked up needle and thread.

Dinner is a spicy soup using leftover chicken, red curry paste, veggies ( including Joan’s technique of breaking potato chunks).